


canned coffee

by cutieyamaguchi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kleptomania, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutieyamaguchi/pseuds/cutieyamaguchi
Summary: Yamaguchi likes when Tsukishima pushes him.He also can't stop taking things that aren't his.(Yamaguchi and Tsukishima tease each other, meanwhile Yamaguchi has a stealing problem.)
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 175





	canned coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I had one (1) thought about yamaguchi having adhd and being a kleptomaniac and suddenly i wrote 12k words. oops. hope u enjoy!

Yamaguchi slugs his bag on the ground, kicking it to rest against the wall by his closet. It's dark out, something he hates about staying late at practice is that by the time he gets home, the day feels like it's over. He flicks on his light. It doesn’t do as much as it should, the lightbulb old with a thick layer of dust around it. If he wiped it off, the room would probably be brighter. But he can’t reach, and he can’t be bothered.

He takes off his scarf as he walks across the room, throwing it in the corner, and reaches over the chair in front of his desk to tap his laptop to life. The motion burns a little. His arms are sore from practice. He winces, but the burn feels kinda good, so he stretches both arms out in front of him as far as they’ll go. He sighs.

He rolls his wrists a couple times, cracking them softly, and drops his arms back down. He pats his coat pockets for his phone, fishing it out and throwing it on his bed. He feels something in his left pocket, so he reaches in and feels around.

Confused, he pulls his hand out of his jacket and stares down. The edges of the clear PVC packet dig slightly into his palm from how it’d been bent out of shape in his pocket. It’s one of those packs of erasers that Coach Ukai sells in his store, in the stationary section. The ones for kids. The ones in his hand are shaped like little candy canes and snowflakes and christmas trees, and it makes him peer at the corner of his laptop screen for the date. 

Autumn had flown by. It already felt like winter outside, biting at his skin where his thick coat didn’t cover, but the end of the year seems like it should be further away. 

He pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk with his toes, dropping the erasers in. They make a dull  _ thwack _ as they hit a packet of highlighters, then a clatter as they fall onto a ring of metal keychains. He winces at the noise and kicks the drawer shut.

He makes a mental note to ask Tsukishima if he has any plans for Christmas or New Year’s, even though he knows they always spend them together.

  
  
  


☾

  
  
  


When he walks into Tsukishima’s room, the blond is standing on his bed and touching the ceiling. 

“Did you hit another growth spurt?”

Tsukishima’s head whips around, startled by Yamaguchi’s sudden presence, and stumbles back a bit on his bed. The mattress has too much give, and he spends a few seconds wobbling with his arms out to try and steady himself.

“Jesus, Yamaguchi, how are you so quiet when you walk? It’s like you weigh nothing. I didn’t hear you coming.” He lifts his hand to his chest, breathing out a sigh before looking back up at the ceiling.

“I’m sneaky like that. What’re you doing?” Yamaguchi shuts the door behind him as he walks over to the edge of Tsukishima’s bed. He follows his eyes to the old, faded stickers up there.

“I’m trying to take these off,” Tsukishima reaches back up again, picking at the corner of a star with his nail. “What kind of fucking glue do they use on these things?” he grunts in frustration and picks harder. The sticker doesn’t budge and he huffs.

“Well, you wouldn’t want them falling down on you while you slept, right?” Yamaguchi notices a little discoloured spot to the right of where Tsukishima is scratching; old sticker residue and a bit of yellow colour from the star left over. “How many have you gotten off?”

Tsukishima extrands his other hand in Yamaguchi’s direction and opens it. A bunch of tiny, ripped up sticker pieces curl in his palm, probably three or four full stickers at the most.

“I’ve been at it for ages. My arm hurts.”

“Why’re you taking them off? They’re cute.”

Tsukishima grunts again, not an answer, and brings his outstretched arm up to the ceiling with his other one. His eyebrows furrow, and Yamaguchi grins as he watches him use both thumbs to try and pull opposite corners of a star off at the same time.

“Don’t tell me you think you’re too old for them, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi’s grin doesn’t falter, his tone teasing. “You’re never too old for glow in the dark stars on your ceiling.”

Tsukishima shoots him a glare.

“No. I wanted to hang some lights up instead. Akiteru gave me some and I thought they'd look better without these old things mucking up the view.” He nods his head in the direction of his desk before returning to the task at hand. 

Yamaguchi steps over to his desk, picking up the box of lights and reading it, turning it over in his hands. 

“Oh, they’re cool!” He opens the box and pulls out the leaflet inside. “That's gonna look awesome. I’m gonna miss the stickers though.”

“I’ll get you some stickers of your own, if you want.” Tsukishima replies distantly.

“Mmhm.” The leaflet is in a bunch of different languages. Yamaguchi unfolds it and searches for Japanese.

“Are you gonna help me, or are you gonna just be useless and read boring instructions.”

His eyes snap up to Tsukishima’s. He’s got an eyebrow raised, his hands on his hips. It was just a quip, a joke, but Yamaguchi thinks that authority sounds good in his voice. He puts the leaflet and box down on the desk and steps back toward the bed.

“My nails are even shorter than yours, I’m not gonna be much help.” He’s tried to kick his nail biting habit many times. He’s even got that gross tasting polish stuff that’s supposed to stop it, but it never worked and he’d just end up with short, jagged nails and a bitter taste in his mouth all day, so he stopped using it.

Despite his words, he reaches an arm out to Tsukishima, who rolls his eyes and grabs at his wrist. 

“Then you can suffer with me.” 

Yamaguchi grips onto Tsukishima's arm, sturdy, and Tsukishima helps pull him up. His other arm goes to Yamaguchi’s side as he stumbles up onto the comforter, steadying him. The stickers in his palm fall forgotten onto the sheets.

The bed isn’t that high. He doesn’t need Tsukishima’s help to get up, he could easily do it on his own, and to be fair, he expected Tsukishima to dismiss his arm and make him get up himself.

Tsukishima laughs at him as he still manages to wobble. He pushes Tsukishima in the chest with his free hand, smiling at the surprised, quiet yelp the blond let’s out as he leans back, hands on Yamaguchi gripping tighter to keep himself up.

  
  


“Stop, we’re gonna fall and die.”

Yamaguchi snorts. “You started it.”

“I genuinely didn’t.”

From up here, Yamaguchi can see just how old the stars are. What was once a pale beige-yellow is now more grey. He’s never seen them up this close, doesn’t think he’s ever actually stood on Tsukishima’s bed before. Not that standing on beds is a thing that people do often, though his chest warms minutely at the thought that even after all these years of being friends, there’s still things he hasn’t done. Things he hasn’t done in Tsukishima’s house, things Tsukishima hasn’t done in his, things they haven’t done together.

He reaches up to touch the star that Tsukishima was having such a hard time with. The material is smooth, the edges barely curled at all despite his insistent scratching. The adhesive has to be good to have held up this long. He wonders what would’ve happened if younger Tsukishima had stuck one of the stickers on his own skin, how long it would’ve stayed put. If he would’ve gotten frustrated like he is now, picked at it insistently until it peeled off. If he would’ve smiled and left it there until the oils in his skin naturally dissolved the glue and it fell off on its own. He wishes he could stick one on him just to see his reaction.

“Have you tried hot water? And soap? We could scrub at it with the green side of a sponge or something.”

“Huh?” 

Yamaguchi looks over at him. Tsukishima is blinking like he’s confused, but Yamaguchi know’s he’s just startled that he didn’t think of that.

“Dunno if that’ll ruin the ceiling though.”

Tsukishima snorts. “It’s already ruined with all this shitty glue.” He reaches a finger out to the discoloured spot, pressing at it and grimacing when his finger sticks a little to it. “You go boil the kettle, I’ll ask Mum what cleaner would work best.”

Yamaguchi only notices that Tsukishima is still holding his arm when he pulls it away. He watches as Tsukishima crouches down to pick up the dropped sticker pieces and slides off the bed. He drops them into the little bin by the door as he leaves. 

Yamaguchi wonders if Tsukishima will make good on his word to get him his own stickers.

  
  
  


✩

  
  
  


Kageyama offers to buy them all meat buns on their way home from practice. 

Hinata whoops and punches the air, and Kageyama grabs him by the hood to stop him from running too far ahead.

“What’s the catch?”

Kageyama turns to glare over his shoulder at Tsukishima.

“If you don’t want one then I won’t get you one.”

Tsukishima smirks. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then shut up before I change my mind.” Kageyama turns back around.Tsukishima lowers his voice. 

“Sorry, King.” At that,Yamaguchi lets out a quiet laugh. Kageyama probably could've heard that, he didn’t lower it that much, but either he didn’t hear or he chooses to ignore Tsukishima’s snark for once.

  
  


Inside the shop, they split into their pairs. Even from the other aisle, they can hear Hinata yelling about some flavour of something that he can’t find.

“You getting anything?” Yamaguchi calls as he looks through the savory snacks. He doesn’t want anything, rarely gets anything, but he likes looking at what they have.

“Just this.” Tsukishima comes up beside him, bumping their shoulders. Yamaguchi stands up straight and notices the canned coffee in Tsukishima’s hand

“Tsukki, those things are like, 90% sugar.” He says, like Tsukishima doesn’t get one of these nearly every day.

“And?” Tsukishima brings the can closer to his face and turns it around, reading the ingredients list.

“And it’s unhealthy.” He doesn’t mean it, doesn’t care what Tsukishima drinks. He eats too much junk food himself to judge. Tsukishima’s long, thin fingers look good wrapped around the small can. He pokes at Tsukishima’s side.

“Oh no, how awful.” Tsukishima pokes him back, right under his ribs, and Yamaguchi squeaks and doubles over. Tsukishima laughs at him.

“Cruel! You know i’m ticklish there.” Yamaguchi huffs and reaches out to poke Tsukishima in the same spot. Tsukishima just raises an eyebrow.

“I win.”

“You win nothing! It’s not fair if you’re not even ticklish.” Yamaguchi keeps poking at Tsukishima, wriggling his fingers into his rubs, then pushing them up into his armpits. Tsukishima pushes him away, holding his wrist.

“It’s not that I’m not ticklish, It’s that you don’t know  _ where _ I’m ticklish.” Tsukishima is smirking, and Yamaguchi can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Then give me a minute and I'll find it!” he huffs again, trying to pull his arm from Tsukishima’s grip. Tsukishima just tightens his fingers and pulls his arm up in the air, so Yamaguchi can’t reach him.

When they tease each other like this, it's always a level playing field. Even if from the outside it seems like Tsukishima has the upperhand, they both know what they’re doing. Even here, Yamaguchi has his other hand free, and could easily use that to continue poking at Tsukishima’s body. If he really tried, he could probably free his arm, too. Tsukishima would probably let go if he looked like he wanted him to.

Though they're equal, he loves to let Tsukishima win. Tsukishima's triumphant smirk feels amazing when it's directed at him. He lets his arm be held high above his head, pulling his muscles in that same burn that he doesn’t hate. Tsukishima seems even taller like this, holding Yamaguchi on his toes and smirking down at him. It makes Yamaguchi’s chest burn similar to his arms. 

He’s glad for his own increase in height, but sometimes, fleetingly, he misses being a lot shorter than Tsukishima. Maybe Tsukishima will get another growth spurt, get even taller than Dateko’s Aone. He thinks, though, that if he were any taller then he would snap like a twig. 

The air between them is quiet. They’re looking at each other as if they’re communicating telepathically. They can’t do that, but sometimes it feels that way. Especially when Tsukishima raises an eyebrow at him and tilts his head up just a little to look more down his nose at him. Yamaguchi lets out what is, embarrassingly, a whimper, rather than the huff of breath he meant to.

Yamaguchi struggles with his footing a little, shuffling in place. He looks down, rocking a little on the balls of his feet. He hears Tsukishima huff a small laugh, and before he can register what that means, he’s being yanked upwards further.

“Tsu- kki!” Yamaguchi’s voice cracks as he’s pulled as high as he’ll go, tippy toes, about ready to topple over. His free arm clutches at Tsukishima’s sleeve. He flicks his eyes back up to Tsukishima’s and gives a pleading look. 

“Ew. Stop flirting, you guys are gross.” Kageyama’s voice comes from behind him, and he sees Tsukishima peer over his shoulder at him, eyes narrowing. 

Without warning, he drops Yamaguchi’s arm, and Yamaguchi stumbles backward grabbing onto the snack rack next to him to stop himself from falling. 

“Are you getting our stuff or not?” Tsukishima taps his nail against his can. Kageyama scoffs.

“Don’t be a dick, I came to ask what ones you guys wanted.” Yamaguchi turns around in time to see Kageyama walk away and into the next aisle. His footsteps make more noise than they need to.

“What’s his problem?” Yamaguchi asks, quiet enough for only Tsukishima to hear.

“No idea. Come on then, I gotta pay for this.”

Tsukishima turns around, and Yamaguchi follows a few steps behind. He notices the pin Tsukishima has on his bag; a small purple badge with a yellow crescent moon on it. He’s had it on his bag since he got it. It’s cute, it doesn’t suit his cold, stoic front at all and it makes Yamaguchi smile.

By the time he leaves Tsukishima’s home that evening, the pin is in his pocket.

  
  
  


☾

  
  
  


Yamaguchi wakes up way too hot than he should for it being December. He’s tired, and it’s still dark out, so he probably doesn’t have to get up yet. He huffs and throws his blanket off of himself.

His dream falls into his mind, and he’s suddenly very aware of why he’s so warm.

_ “Tie my shoes for me, Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima’s voice was steady as he looked down his nose at him. He lifted his foot up off of the floor and nudged Yamaguchi’s shoulder with it. “I’m waiting.” _

_ Yamaguchi was knelt on the hard wood of Tsukishima’s porch _ .  _ He hesitantly lifted his hand to grasp Tsukishima’s ankle, and placed it gently on his lap. He looked up at Tsukishima, whose expression hadn’t changed from neutral, then got to work. _

_ He tied the first knot, pulling tight, and looped the laces into a bow. He looked up again, and Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. He double-knotted it and looked up once more. Tsukishima nodded and Yamaguchi beamed.  _

_ Tsukishima’s foot came back off of Yamaguchi’s lap and was replaced with his other one. This time when he pulls the first knot tight, Tsukishima sighs above him. A shiver runs through him at the sound. When he ties the bow, Tsukishima’s voice is low. _

_ “Good, Tadashi.” _

Yamaguchi groans, pressing his palms into his eyes. Stupid Tsukishima, fucking with his dreams. It’s probably because of what happened at the store the other day, he thinks. 

He runs his hand through his hair harshly, scratching harder than necessary at his scalp. He reaches over and clicks his phone open to check the time. He groans again, louder when he sees that he  _ does _ have to be up pretty soon.

  
  
  


✩

  
  
  


“What’s it like being a libero?” It’s a vague question, he knows, but he’d not sure how else to word it. He places the ball he's holding back in the basket.

“You trying to overtake me, Yamaguchi?” Nishinoya grins, bumping a ball up and down on his forearms.

“It’s not like that!”

“I know, I’m just messing.” He bumps the ball up high, then catches it with one hand and holds it under his arm. “You wanna be a libero?”

Yamaguchi shrugs. He hasn’t thought about it too much.

“No. Well, I don’t know.” Yamaguchi looks out the window as he speaks. “I was just thinking I’d like to be on the court more. And especially when you graduate, it’d be weird if we didn't have one.”

Nishinoya laughs. “I’m only a second year, don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily!” He follows Yamaguchi’s gaze out the window. “But I get it.”

“Yeah. I don’t think i'm quite cut out for it, though.”

Yamaguchi gasps as the wind is knocked out of him from Nishinoya’s enthusiastic thump on the back. 

“You won’t be with that attitude! I’ll admit, your receives  _ could  _ use a lot of work, but it’s nothing that can’t be improved on!” 

Yamaguchi chooses to ignore what was said about his receives and instead be happy that Nishinoya seems to see potential in him.

“It looks like it needs a lot of focus to be a libero.” 

He follows Nishinoya with his eyes as he steps back a few feet. Nishinoya spins the ball in his hands once and nods at him. Yamaguchi nods back, and his knees click as he crouches deep to receive the ball that Nishinoya serves at him. It’s not clean, it bounces to the left a bit, but he sticks his arm out in time to catch it. Nishinoya gives him a thumbs up and he smiles, throwing the ball back to him for him to try again.

“It does take focus. And fast reflexes.” Yamaguchi snaps to the right as Nishinoya’s serve swerves. He misses it by about an inch. “Hey, you almost had it! Your reflexes are good, miles better than when you first joined!”

Yamaguchi shines under the praise. “You think?” 

He reaches it the next time, and it goes up clean. Nishinoya rushes forward to catch it. 

“For sure! If it makes you feel any better, I’m no good at focusing. I can’t remember the last time I listened to anything my teachers said. But with volleyball, it’s different. It’s easier.”

He laughs at himself and continues.

“If you spent free practice working purely on receives for a while, you’ll get better in no time!” He steps back to serve again. “You can try and receive the other guy’s serves with me, if you want.”

Yamaguchi steps too far forward and the ball hits him in the shoulder, flinging off into the gym. 

“In front of everyone seems scary…”

“We’re your teammates! We all want you to improve, no ones gonna laugh at you.”

They practice like this while the rest of the team pack up and file out. Nishinoya hits him on the back again, only marginally lighter.

“You did good today, dude!” he holds his hands out for a high five, and smacks Yamaguchi’s hard when he lifts his. The sound is sharp, and Yamaguchi is left stood shaking his wrists as Nishinoya runs out of the gym.

  
  
  


☾

  
  
  
  


He tries not to think about it too often. The guilt feels too heavy on his stomach when he thinks of how much it might be all worth, combined. 

He’s forced to think about it when the drawer gets stuck on something as he kicks it shut. Without looking down, he gives it another kick, a harder one, but it bounces back again, and he sighs. He crouches down and pulls the drawer out fully. 

He doesn’t like to look inside. He likes to forget about it completely, usually, pretending that it isn’t a thing. He always just opens it, drops the items in, and closes it, ignoring it again until he inevitably has to do it over again. He doesn’t remember most of what’s in here by now.

There’s a little trinket box, plastic and shitty, a kids toy, that he immediately notices as the reason for the drawer not shutting. He pushes at it, wriggling it a little to try and make it lay flat. It doesn’t, so he’s required to go about actually sorting the contents for the first time. There’s more here than he realised.

He pulls out the trinket box and turns it over in his hand. It’s purple, with fake gems stuck on the lid of it, and Yamaguchi stares at it as he thinks about how he doesn’t remember seeing it before in his life. There’s a little button on the back, and he presses it. The lid noisily clicks open. There’s nothing inside; like anything could fit in it anyway. Maybe , like, a packet of gum at the most. He shuts the lid and places it on the ground next to him.

His mind is somewhere else as he pulls things out one by one. He’s good at getting distracted, at using his body without his mind. There’s a lot of stationary and little useless bits and pieces. A notebook so small you’d barely be able to write one word on a page, a 5 pack of bubble wands that are meant as kids party favours, a squishy donut on a chain, a polly pocket. He places it all on the ground next to the drawer. 

He puts his hand flat into the drawer again, rummaging it around to try and flatten it all. His mind comes back to him in a flash as his fingers reach some fabric at the back of the drawer. He blinks a couple times, eyes and brain fully focusing for the first time since he crouched. He pulls it out and sighs.

The material of the knee pad is a little scratchy, but the inside is soft enough for it to not irritate. He runs his thumb over the small logo stitched in white. A wave of nausea flows over him and he clenches it hard in his fist, breathing out slowly. The squishy foam doesn’t resist under his grip.

Hinata’s legs are thin, thinner than his own despite how slight he is, so the knee pad looks like it could belong to a child. If he tried it on, the elastic would surely stretch to its limits and dig painfully into his skin. He doesn’t. 

-

_ Yamaguchi is pulling his shoes on in the locker room at Nekoma. The practice matches went well, they lost miserably, but the experience would definitely benefit the team. He digs his finger into his shoes to grab at where they’d pulled his socks down. He pulls them back up. _

_ “It's way too stuffy in here. I’ll be outside when you’re done.” Tsukishima nods towards the door, jacket already zipped and bag all packed up. It always amazed Yamaguchi how quickly Tsukishima could get changed, himself always rushing to catch up. Almost everyone else was still showering and changing, taking their sweet time and chatting. _

_ Yamaguchi nods back, sending a thumbs up, and Tsukishima pushes himself through the door. The sounds from the hallway fall into the locker room, then quickly leaves as the door slams shut. Yamaguchi start’s shoving his stuff into his bag, looking around to make sure he’s got everything. _

_ He’s in the aisle closest to the door; he and the other first years had been forced to change there while the second and third years went further into the changing room. _

_ “We’re the senpais, so we get the best spots! And you can’t complain!” Tanaka had laughed when they entered. _

_ “What makes here not a good spot?” Tsukishima had asked, though he didn’t sound like he really cared that much. _

_ Tanaka huffed. “It’s right by the door! Anyone who comes in will immediately see you changing! There’s, like, no privacy.” _

_ “It’s a changing room, of course people are going to see us. It’s not like the door has a window.” _

_ “Oh, shut up will you!” Tanaka smacked Tsukishima between the shoulder blades and retreated to the next aisle. _

_ Yamaguchi is practically alone in the aisle right now, though. He’s at the end closest to the door, and Hinata and Kageyama are at the other end, backs turned to him as they bicker about something he can’t make out. Kageyama is still in his shorts and sweaty shirt, whereas Hinata’s hair is wet from the shower and he’s already in most of his clean clothes. _

_ He looks around again, checking for anything he’s forgetting as he goes to zip up his bag. His eyes stop on the messy mound of clothes next to where he was changing. He watches as one of the knee pads that Hinata had clumsily perched on top of his clothes slips, and falls quietly to the ground. _

_ He feels a familiar pull in his body as he stares at it. He grasps the zip of his bag tighter, willing himself to zip it up fully. His fingers don’t budge and he groans quietly. He stands up straight, pressing his palms to his eyes for a second before dropping them loosely to his sides.  _

_ The pull doesn’t slack, and as he peers back down the aisle at his fellow second years. They’re still engrossed in their argument. He looks the other way, and steps back a bit into the space along the edge of the room to look quickly into the next aisle. Nishinoya has his head in his locker and is attempting to (failing to) push his shorts down with just his feet. He looks back once more at the black fabric on the ground. It's like it's taunting him. He shakes his head, then quickly squats to the ground, snatching it up and shoving it into his bag.  _

_ It’s zipped up and he’s out of the room within 5 seconds. _

  
  
  
  


_ “Captain!” Hinata’s voice is shrill, way too loud in the tiny club room. _

_ “Huh?” _

_ “Is there, like, a spare kit box or something? I can’t find my knee pads.” _

_ Daichi turns around from where he’s changing. “I think we have some spare, over there,” He gestures to a box underneath the shelving unit in the back of the room. “Try not to forget your stuff next time.” _

_ Hinata shakes his head. “I didn’t forget! I haven’t opened my bag since the practice matches last week.”  _

_ Yamaguchi hears a small ‘gross’ from Tsukishima and he snickers. He pulls his school shirt off his shoulders. _

_ “Did you leave them at Nekoma?” Sugawara asks. _

_ “I have one of them!” Hinata lifts it up and shakes it above his head. He drops it to his side and sighs. “I must’ve left the other one.” _

_ Yamaguchi freezes. He’s half way into his practice shirt, arms in the sleeves and his head inside the body of the shirt. It’d only been a couple days, the weekend, but he’d already forgotten about taking Hinata’s knee pad. He’d dropped it into his drawer as soon as he got home. He breathes in deeply. Should he mention something? _

_ “Are you stuck?” Tsukishima’s voice is closer than he expects, and he jumps. He can’t see because he’s still half into his shirt. Tsukishima laughs, grabbing the ends of Yamaguchi’s shirt and yanking it down for him. His head pops through the hole. He blinks at the bright light of the club room, and turns to Tsukishima. _

_ “Ah, thanks....” _

_ Tsukishima has already turned away, and is taping up his fingers. Watching him makes Yamaguchi forget about the knee pad almost immediately; Tsukishima’s delicate hands pull the tape over his slender fingers in such a precise way, smoothing it down. Yamaguchi’s mouth goes a little dry watching. He’s always had such pretty hands. Yamaguchi wonders if Tsukishima would ever let him tape his fingers for him. He’d love an excuse to touch his hands. _

_ “You’re staring.” _

_ Tsukishima doesn’t look up as he says it, like he can feel Yamaguchi’s eyes on him. His words aren’t stern, though, aren’t a request to stop. Just an observation. _

_ “Sorry, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi’s smiling. He used to get self conscious when Tsukishima would do that - point out his actions and habits. Now, it makes him giddy, knowing he’s being watched as much as he’s watching.  _

_ “It looks cool, with the tape on them like that,” Yamaguchi reaches out to tap one of Tsukishima’s taped fingers, as if he needed context on what he was talking about. “Looks professional. It makes you look better than you are.” _

_ Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. _

_ “Shut up, Yamaguchi.” _

-

Hinata’s knee pad falls from his grip, onto his lap. It’s been too long now to give it back. Hinata has long since gotten new ones, long since forgotten. It’s just some fabric, not even that expensive, but Yamaguchi feels guilt grip at his throat. 

His eyes flit around the drawer as the guilt tightens. There’s a pencil he took from Yachi’s pencil case when they were studying together, a stick of deodorant that was on the club room floor, a mostly empty tub of hair gel from Nishinoya’s locker. 

His cousin's phone charger. 

His Geography teachers ruler. 

A keyring from some girl in his class’ bag.

A pack of shoelaces.

Someone's earphones. He doesn’t remember whose.

An old pack of hard candies from Ukai’s store.

One of Kageyama’s many nail files. Yamaguchi isn’t sure if Kageyama even noticed it gone.

A set of storage room keys from the teachers office.

A 10,000 yen bill from his mother's purse.

He pushes both his hands into the drawer with more force than necessary. The things inside clatter loudly as he tries to push everything around to lay flat enough to close it. In his rummaging, a glint of white catches his eye. His pinky brushes it, the tape a familiar feeling from when he’s high fived his teammates. It sets him off.

He picks up the stupid toys and stationary off the ground and shoves them in. They don’t lie flat, they won’t with how much he’s collected. He slams the drawer. It gets caught, so he slams it again, with all his force. There’s a cracking, an awful, broken noise, but the drawer shuts fully. He stands up fast, so quick his head spins. Hinata’s knee pad falls off of his legs onto the ground.

He absently kicks it under the drawer, forgotten for good, and stumbles down stairs to make himself dinner.

  
  
  


✩

  
  
  


“Got any plans for Christmas?”

Yamaguchi has his chair pulled up to the side of Tsukishima’s desk, like he does every time they spend lunch together in the classroom. Yamaguchi has his head resting in his hands. He’s watching as Tsukishima scribbles in his notebook, but he can’t really tell what he’s writing. His handwriting sucks.

Tsukishima doesn’t look at him. “Whatever you’re doing, I guess. Why, you have anything you wanna do?”

“Eh, not really.” Yamaguchi looks up from the page to Tsukishima’s face. He’s concentrating, and keeps licking his bottom lip. “There’s a market going on though not far from here. A German one, or something.”

“German?”

“Or something.” Yamaguchi takes his pen out of his uniform pocket and sets about doodling in the corner of Tsukishima’s page. Tsukishima bats his hand away, but Yamaguchi just comes back. Tsukishima sighs and lets him do what he wants.

“An outside market?” Tsukishima itches his eyebrow with the hand that isn’t writing, then rests his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand.

“Obviously. And it’d be best to go at night. Or, evening. So we can see it all lit up.” Yamaguchi doodles a little Christmas tree with some string lights on it. “I saw some pictures online. It looks real pretty.”

“It’ll be cold.” It’s not an objection, just another one of his statements. “You’d better not complain about it once we’re there.”

Yamaguchi kicks him under the table. “I wouldn’t dare.”

They both know he will. 

Yamaguchi adds baubles to his Christmas tree.

“Do you  _ want _ to spend Christmas with me?” It’s not an accusation, Yamaguchi just feels like teasing. Tsukishima stops writing and turns to look at him.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, y’know,” Yamaguchi grins, twiddling his pen in his fingers for a moment then using it to point at Tsukishima. “Christmas is when  _ lovers _ go on  _ dates _ . I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly.”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “You’re so weird. We’ve always spent Christmas together, why is it a big deal now?” His tone is the tiniest bit defensive.

Yamaguchi laughs. He’s only messing around, but sometimes it's nice to rile Tsukishima up like this.He doesn't do it often, so he pushes again.

“Yeah, but we were kids. We’re in high school now, so it's different.” It’s not different, they both know this, but he’s smiling wide. 

“Does it have to be different? Aren’t we allowed to just hang out anymore?”

“Sounds to me like you like the idea of being my girlfriend, Tsukki.” 

He yelps as Tsukishima kicks him hard under the table. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi. Why am _I_ the girlfriend?” He’s smiling too. “We always do shit together, one more date wouldn’t make a difference.” He realises his mistake in wording immediately and goes red. He kicks Yamaguchi again to try and stop him from talking, but it doesn’t work.

“ _ One more  _ date?! Wow, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s laugh echoes throughout the classroom. “You should’ve told me you thought of us hanging out as  _ dates.  _ I would’ve brought you flowers.” 

Yamaguchi’s cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling. Joking around with Tsukishima is always fun, but getting him flustered like this is next level. It’s a little cruel, he’ll admit, to be teasing him about this when their relationship is so ambiguous and up in the air. But seeing Tsukishima’s pale cheeks flush as he tries to tell Yamaguchi off make’s him not care. 

He wonders where the line is.

Yamaguchi’s laughter trails off, and Tsukishima is writing in his book again. He’s still red, and his eyebrows are furrowed. Yamaguchi swings his legs in his chair, gently hitting Tsukishima’s on each pass.

“I hate you so much.” Tsukishima’s voice is a grumble, but he doesn’t really sound that annoyed.

Yamaguchi exaggerates a gasp, bringing a hand to his chest. “That’s no way for a  _ girlfriend _ to talk to her boyfriend!”

Tsukishima smiles a little, disbelieving, before kicking Yamaguchi hard once again.

“Enough, now.” His voice is quiet, distracted.

Yamaguchi reaches out to fluff Tsukishima’s hair, but the blond drops his pen and grabs his wrist before he can touch it. He looks Yamaguchi in the eye, smile dropped into a neutral expression. 

“Enough, Yamaguchi.” firmer this time.

He doesn’t look mad, but Yamaguchi understands that he’s right on the line. They look at each other for what seems like ages, Tsukishima’s eyes flitting over his features. Yamaguchi recognises the way his gaze focuses not quite on his eyes. He’s looking at his freckles. Yamaguchi worries his lip between his teeth, fingers twitching where his arm is still in Tsukishima's grasp. He feels bad for pushing the joke. He hopes that Tsukishima can see that on his face.

Tsukishima slowly lowers their arms, letting go of Yamaguchi’s wrist, and goes back to his notebook.

Yamaguchi sits there for a while, unmoving. He looks past Tsukishima’s head and out the window, where the rugby club are practicing. They’re out on the field in their usual shorts and t-shirts, and Yamaguchi is grateful that he chose an indoor sport. How do they manage out there in the freezing cold? 

Even though it's inside, the gym they practice in is still cold as hell this time of year. They’re lucky to be without the wind, though. Yamaguchi remembers last week when Kageyama had asked Daichi if they had a heater, and Hinata had called him a pussy. They had a fight, wrestling on the cold wooden flooring and Yamaguchi had to pull Kageyama off of him. The thought of more cold practices makes him frown, but he’s glad that they’re at least allowed to wear their sweatshirts.

“Look up the train times.”

Yamaguchi starts at Tsukishima's voice, eyes snapping to him. He’s still focused on his paper.

“Uh, what?”

“For the market. Look up the train times so we know when we should go.”

Yamaguchi watches Tsukishima’s pen. He’s doodling in the corner. Yamaguchi leans forward to look, and sees that he’s added a star on top of the Christmas tree that Yamaguchi drew. He looks to Tsukishima’s face, who looks back and smiles.

Yamaguchi pulls out his phone, smiling too, to google the train times.

  
  
  


☾

  
  
  


The first years are the only ones in the club room. The upperclassmen all left a while ago, and Coach Ukai had asked for the first years to stay behind for a moment to talk about  _ teamwork. _ Which, really, meant it was a lecture about distracting each other during practice.

“Why did  _ we _ get pulled behind and not anyone else?” Hinata asks, sat on the ground tying his shoes. Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow at him.

“Weren’t you listening?” He turns and throws a t-shirt from his bag at Tsukishima. “You left this at mine.”

He hadn’t. Yamaguchi never returns the things he takes, but seeing the shirt at the bottom of his bag for the past two weeks made his stomach turn.

Tsukishima looks at it for a second, before nodding and shoving it in his own bag. Hinata is still huffing.

“Yeah, but I don’t get it!”

“Of course you don’t, idiot.” Kageyama kicks him softly in the side from where he’s stood at the shelves. Hinata punches his leg, and they go on like that for a few seconds.

“You guys are so annoying. No wonder Coach hates you.” Tsukishima stares down at his phone.

“He hates you more.”

“He doesn’t hate me, I’m a delight.” 

Yamaguchi snorts, and Tsukishima shoots him a look. Yamaguchi smiles, mouthing a  _ Sorry, Tsukki _ his way. 

“Delightfully awful, maybe.” Hinata huffs. He crawls across the floor to where Tsukishima is sat against the wall. “Whatcha doin?”

  
  


Yamaguchi paces back and forth at the back of the club room, where the whiteboard and stacks of supplies are. He’s antsy, he has been all day, but isn’t sure why. He got hardly any work done in his classes, he just sat fidgeting and staring out the window. The pull in his chest is back, but there’s nothing specific he’s drawn to, which is unusual. Tsukishima has noticed, sending him looks every now and then, a quirk of his brow as if to say  _ what’s up? _

He sends him one of those looks now. Yamaguchi just shrugs and smiles weakly. Tsukishima looks like he wants to say something, but is distracted by Hinata getting up in his personal space. He pushes him away.

“Get off of me.”

“I just wanted to know who you were texting. I thought Yamaguchi was your only friend, so I didn’t know who it could be.” He gets closer again, trying to peep at his phone screen. Tsukishima locks it and shoves him harder.

“No one, fuck off will you?”

Yamaguchi watches as they bicker, makes sure no one is paying attention when he reaches for the whiteboard eraser and shoves it in his bag. The pulling in him doesn’t stop so he takes the pens too. He zips up his bag, natural as ever, and throws on his coat. When he looks back, Tsukishima is looking at him. 

“You ready to go?” Tsukishima is getting to his feet.

“Yeah, let’s go.” They leave Hinata and Kageyama behind as they go.

  
  
  
  


On the way home, Tsukishima keeps glancing at him.

“What?”

“What, what?”

Yamaguchi shoves him lightly. “Don’t ‘what, what?’ me. Why are you staring at me?”

Tsukishima pushes his glasses up his nose. They weren’t slipping down in the first place.

“Am I not allowed to look?”

“If you were looking at me because you thought I was cute, then I’d allow it,” Yamaguchi idly wonders if Tsukishima ever has done that, for that reason, and he hasn’t noticed. “But you’re not.”

“You’ve been off today. I just wondered if something was up.”

“You could’ve asked me that instead of staring at me.” Yamaguchi knows he’s being difficult, pricklier than usual. He wants to apologise, but his body thrums uncomfortably and he can’t.

“Fine. Is something up?” Tsukishima, surprisingly to anyone else, has a lot of patience. Maybe not with other people, but he’s patient with Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi is grateful.

He fiddles with his fingers, cracking his knuckles.

“I don’t know. I just feel restless today.”

Tsukishima hums, a sound of understanding. “You took your meds today?”

“Yeah, you were there.” He’s been taking them longer than he’s known Tsukishima, but he’s still bad at remembering them. Tsukishima remembers for him, most mornings.

“You got enough sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not on any  _ other _ kinds of meds?” Tsukishima’s voice lilts, Yamaguchi can tell he’s smiling without looking at him. He smiles too.

“What are you, my mum? I’m not on drugs.”

Tsukishima walks a little closer to him, their shoulders brushing every few steps. “I know. I’m just exhausting all the options.”

They walk in comfortable silence after that. Yamaguchi is thankful that he doesn’t press him too much, because he knows he’ll crack too easily. A part of him wants to crack, wants to tell Tsukishima what’s bothering him, but he can’t. He’s gotten good at reading Tsukishima by now, but he doesn’t know how he’d react if Yamaguchi told him “I can’t stop stealing shit. Shit I don’t even need or want. At first it was just little stuff, like pens and sweets from the shop. But now I’m stealing from teachers and strangers and my friends and my mum and  _ you.” _

He wonders if Tsukishima has noticed the bits and pieces he keeps taking are going missing. He doesn’t know if he wants him to notice.

It’s not a good idea, he decides.

  
  
  
  


Akiteru is there when they arrive at Tsukishima’s place. He greets them in the entrance, pulling them both into a hug while they’re trying to take their shoes off.

“Tadashi! It's been ages!” Akiteru beams at him. He’s always liked Tsukishima’s brother, but it still feels weird to be around him ever since what happened in middle school.

Tsukishima lets out a breath that only he would be able to manage to make sound annoyed.

“You saw him last month.”

Akiteru just ruffles both of their hair and steps back. 

“You haven’t put the lights up yet.”

“I know. Yamaguchi is here to help me do it.”

Yamaguchi looks at him. “I am?”

“What, you’re gonna just watch?”

“I can help!” Akiteru volunteers. Tsukishima tuts and pushes past him.

“No, thanks. Come on, Yamaguchi.”

Akiteru sends Yamaguchi a look.  _ He’ll never change, will he? _

Yamaguchi snickers lightly.  _ No, he won’t. _ He follows Tsukishima up to his room.

  
  
  


When Yamaguchi gets there, Tsukishima is already holding the box of lights and reading the back. He closes the door behind him and comes to stand next to him, peering at the box.

“So, what’s the plan?” 

The lights are like a curtain. A single wire, with multiple dangling strings of fairy lights coming off of it. He looks up at the ceiling above Tsukishima’s bed, imagining the end result.

“I was thinking if we just tape this part,” Tsukishima points to the wire part on the picture on the box. “-to the ceiling,” he points to the ceiling, above where his headboard is against the wall. “-then tape the ends of each string of lights up over there,” he points to the ceiling above the foot of the bed. “-that’d be cool.”

Yamaguchi nods along as he explains.

“Sounds good. Got any tape?”

“No. Go get it for me?” Tsukishima is digging into the box and pulling out the bundle of wires. “Ask Akiteru where it is.”

“What am I, your slave?” Despite it, he’s walking out the door to go find Akiteru.

  
  


When he gets back, Tsukishima is standing on the bed, and it reminds him of when he came in and Tsukishima was picking the stars off of his ceiling.

“Got it.”

Tsukishima hums. Hes’s unravelling the wire, pulling it between his hands and measuring it against the ceiling. Yamaguchi walks over.

“Is it big enough?” he asks as Tsukishima fiddles with it.

“Yeah, more than enough. Pass me some tape?”

Yamaguchi moves to get up on the bed with him but Tsukishima stops him.

“You can stay down there. Just rip some off and pass it to me.”

Yamaguchi doesn’t understand, but doesn’t question it. He struggles for a second to reach the end of the tape, then pulls some out and rips it off with his teeth.

“Here.” He passes it to Tsukishima, who uses it to tape up one corner of the wire. He holds his hand out for another strip of tape.

They continue that until Tsukishima deems the wire secure enough and he moves on to stringing up the lights on the other side. He holds his hand out expectantly.

Yamaguchi rips a piece off, and holds it up to him. They stare at each other. Tsukishima doesn’t move his arm the couple inches down that he easily could to reach the tape. Yamaguchi stretches his arm out more, but is still off by a little. He huffs.

“Tsukki.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, just leaves his arm out. Yamaguchi stretches further, leaning forward and wobbling the tiniest bit. The end of the tape sticks to Tsukishima’s finger and he takes it. Yamaguchi settles back down with a frown. 

Tsukishima does it again the next time, and again. When Yamaguchi’s arm starts getting tired from the strain, he asks.

“Why are you doing that, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima hums noncommittally. “Doing what.”

“You know. Being difficult.”

Tsukishima turns to look at him, and there's a playful smile on his lips.

“I’m not being difficult.”

“I could just get up there with you and hand it to you normally.”

“Hmm, but you won’t.”

Yamaguchi blanks for a second. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Because I told you not to. And you look good down there.”

Tsukishima’s voice is as calm and casual as ever. Yamaguchi wonders how he’s able to say stuff like that without hesitation.

“...What?”

Yamaguchi knows he looks stupid, standing on the ground with the tape in his hands, gawking up at the taller boy. Tsukishima steps closer to him on the bed, and bends down a little. It’s a miracle he doesn’t lose any balance.

“You like when I’m looking down on you, right?” Tsukishima’s eyes scan his face. Yamaguchi’s eyes are wide, he’s leaning back a little to distance himself from his gaze. “And when I talk down to you, too.” 

Tsukishima’s smirk always sends something through him, but when it’s directed at him like this, he can’t help the embarrassing noise his throat lets out. Tsukishima only grins harder at it, then straightens himself back up and goes back to fiddling with the wires.

They’re quiet for a moment while Yamaguchi composes himself. He’s sure he’s red as anything, and he’s mortified at that stupid  _ whine _ he made. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair.

“ _ Jesus, _ Tsukki.”

Tsukishima laughs at him. Despite himself, Yamaguchi can’t help but laugh too.

“C’mon, I need some more tape.” Tsukishima smiles, reaching his arm out.

  
  
  


✩

  
  
  
  


Yamaguchi breaks his promise of not complaining before they even get to the market.

“Fuck, its cold.” His coat is zipped up all the way, and his scarf is pulled up over his mouth and nose. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets.

“Told you.” Tsukishima is dressed similarly as they stand leaning against the door of the train car. “It’ll be even colder when we get there. I told you to bring gloves.”

“I don’t have any!” his cold fingers flex in his pockets. His mother offered him hers before she left, but he shook his head. The feeling of their fake leather-plastic made his skin crawl.

“You want mine?” Tsukishima wiggles his fingers and moves one hand to his other wrist as if to take them off.

“No! You’ll get cold. I’ll be alright.” Tsukishima’s gloves don’t look that useful, anyway. They’re a cheap scratchy material, probably bought from a bargain shop.

“We can share.”

Yamaguchi scrunches his nose. “How do you share gloves?”

Tsukishima pulls his glove off of his left hand and holds it out to Yamaguchi, who looks up at him curiously.

“We can have one each.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

He thrusts the glove towards him again. “Just take it.”

Yamaguchi does, and he pulls it on. It’s warm from Tsukishima’s body heat, and feels good against his icy skin. He reaches out to Tsukishima’s now naked hand, and squeezes his fingertips. 

“If you want it back, just ask.”

“Yeah.”

  
  


Stepping off the train, the wind instantly pricks his face, and Yamaguchi buries further into his scarf.

He leads the way, out of the busy train station and into the streets. It’s not that late, but it’d be pitch black out if not for the town’s lights. With Tsukishima’s hand on his sleeve, they weave through the crowds and streets until they see the soft, warm lights.

“There it is!” He points, needlessly, ahead. The street is full of music and canopies set up with different things.

“When you said ‘market’, I thought you meant, like, with normal stalls.” Tsukishima notes as they walk into the street. The smell of food hits them almost immediately.

“That’d be boring, why would I wanna go there?” They’re still stalls, but they’re constructed more like tiny little houses, or sheds. They have the triangular roofs, with twinkling lights hanging off of them and fake snow settled on top. 

“Yeah. This is nice. How’d they set it all up?”

“Hell if I know. Ooh, look!” Yamaguchi skips forward a little, pointing, then looks over his shoulder. “Do you want a drink? I want hot chocolate.” He steps up to the stall and squints at the chalkboard menu

“Mmh. I’ll have a mulled wine.” Tsukishima comes to stand beside him. Yamaguchi pushes him, maybe a little harder than necessary. 

“Shut up, you don’t like that.” He doesn’t know if that’s true, but he doubts that Tsukishima has even tried it before. He peers over the counter and gets the vendors attention. “Hi, yeah, can I get two hot chocolates, please?”

When he gets them, he hands one to Tsukishima and they continue walking. He pretends he doesn’t notice Tsukishima slipping some money into his coat pocket.

  
  
  
  


Music gets louder as they approach a turning, as they go round the corner, the bright colours of a merry-go-round greet them. Yamaguchi perks up, and turns excitedly to look at Tsukishima. The lights reflect on Tsukishima’s glasses, but from his side, Yamaguchi can see his eyes take in the sights. The corner of his mouth is up in the tiniest of smiles, and seeing it makes Yamaguchi beam.

“You wanna go on it, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as they walk past it. “No, I’ll throw up.”

“They don’t go that fast, don’t be a baby.” Yamaguchi teases, but he knows that the motion would probably unsettle his own stomach a little, too. Especially after that hot chocolate.

“Take a selfie with me? In front of it?” Yamaguchi asks, but he reaches into Tsukishima’s pocket without waiting for an answer and grabbing his phone.

“Use your own phone.”

“Your camera is better than mine. Come here!” He lifts Tsukishima's phone up and motions him closer. Tsukishima steps, but Yamaguchi sighs. “ _ Closer.  _ You’re hardly in the frame, get in.”

Tsukishima sighs back, taking a large step forward, bumping into Yamaguchi’s side. He leans forward and gently bites his ear, then presses their cheeks right together.

“Better?”

Yamaguchi snaps a couple pictures, smiling like an idiot. “Much better! Send me those later.” He slips Tsukishima’s phone back into his coat pocket.

  
  
  


A few meters away from the ride is another line of stalls, this time with different knick knacks and things for sale. They walk over and idly look. There’s some small hand made, needle-felted animals all in rows and Yamaguchi coos at them.

“They’re so cute!” He reaches up to poke his un-gloved finger at a little bunny, watching it wobble. 

“You want one?” Tsukishima is looking at him. His expression is neutral, but past the glinting lights on his lenses, Yamaguchi can see fondness in his eyes. He shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s okay. They’re just cute.”

Tsukishima turns to look at the rabbit, tapping it himself and watching it fall over. He gently sets it upright again, then picks it up.

“I’m getting you it.”

Yamaguchi gawks. “Why?! It’s okay, I don’t need it or anything.”

Tsukishima hands some change over to the vendor, then turns to Yamaguchi. 

“It’s cute.” Is all he says. He presses it firmly into Yamaguchi’s palm. Yamaguchi looks up at him and smiles. He’s distantly thankful for the cold, because he can blame his red cheeks on that. Tsukishima smiles back, then takes Yamaguchi’s empty cup from him.

“I’m gonna find a bin. I think there was one back there,” he tips his head back a little. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Yamaguchi gently slides the little rabbit into his pocket as we watches Tsukishima disappear into the crowd. He taps his foot for a moment, then turns to look at the rest of the stalls.

The stall next to the needle-felt stand has incense. Yamaguchi watches smoke come out of a tall wooden dragon’s mouth. He wants to reach out and stick his finger through the smoke, but he doesn’t want to be rude, or knock anything over, so he keeps his hands in his pocket. Tsukishima would think it's cool, he thinks.

He rounds the corner, and the next stall has some soaps and bath bombs. They’re shaped like food, and they smell pretty good too. Yamaguchi thinks about getting one for his mum, before the next stall catches his eye.

Candles line the counter, and the inside of the little shack has shelves with candles that are lit as displays. The tiny flames flickering brings back the want to touch again, and he squeezes his hands into fists like that’ll stop him. In the corner, plugged into an extension cable, there’s a couple salt rock lamps. He likes those, he has one himself in his room, a little one. 

Next to those are some tea light holders, some made of the salt rock, but most are made of different crystals and kinds of rock. They look sharp. Yamaguchi wonders how they make the rocks into shapes fit for candles.

There’s a purple one, amethyst, the note on the table says, and he tilts his head as he looks at it. It’s pretty. He blinks, and thinks about the purple pin he stole from Tsukishima, and suddenly the pull is there in his chest. He hardly thinks before he’s walking away, and the jagged edges of the rock are digging into his palm where he’s gripping it hard in his deep coat pocket.

He tuts to himself. He grips it harder. The points threaten to break skin, and Yamaguchi wishes for a moment that they would, before he’s snapped out of it with a hand on his shoulder.

“Oi, don’t run off. I couldn’t find you.” 

“Ah, sorry, Tsukki. I got distracted by all the stuff.” Yamaguchi thinks he does a good job of keeping his voice steady, but Tsukishima quirks a brow at him. He sucks in a breath.

“Give me your hand.”

“Huh?” 

Tsukishima holds out his left, ungloved, hand, expectantly. Yamaguchi warily pulls out his own ungloved hand, palm facing down in case there’s any crystal indents.

“You’re cold, right? You’re shivering.” Tsukishima grabs it, roughly lacing their fingers together, before pulling both of their hands inside his own coat pocket. It’s an awkward fit, but Yamaguchi doesn’t complain as he smiles giddily at the ground.

“Find anything cool?” Tsukishima asks, squeezing his hand. Yamaguchi perks up again.

“Yeah! There’s this cool incense holder over here that made me think of you!” And just like that, he’s pulling Tsukishima along.

  
  
  
  


They get back to Yamaguchi’s house later than they planned.

“This is the one time that your room being an actual  _ furnace _ is a good thing.” Tsukishima sighs, sitting on the edge of Yamaguchi’s bed. He stretches his arms up above his head and yawns. 

“It’s not that hot, you’re just a wimp.”

“Yeah, it’s fine  _ now _ . But in the summer I feel like I’ll actually die. How do you handle it?”

Yamaguchi laughs, flicking on the lamp on his desk. “So that’s why you never come over in the summer?”

“Obviously.” Tsukishima says around another yawn. He puts his arms out behind him to lean back a little. “Your face is super red.”

“ _ Obviously.”  _ Yamaguchi parrots. “So is yours.” He pulls off Tsukishima’s glove and chucks it at him. It hits him in the cheek, and he throws it back. It misses and falls to the floor by Yamaguchi’s desk.

“Thank you, for today.” Tsukishima’s sincere tone takes Yamaguchi by surprise. He blinks at him for a couple seconds, unsure what to say.

“Uh, no it’s okay, thank you for coming with me.” He reaches for the little rabbit in his pocket. “Thank you for him. He’s adorable.”

Tsukishima smiles. “No problem. He looks like you.” 

“I… don’t see it.” Yamaguchi turns it over in his hand before setting it down on top of his school books. Tsukishima stands up to shrug off his jacket.

Yamaguchi moves to do the same, but it carries more weight on one side and he stops. He remembers the candle holder in his pocket and reaches for it. He lets out a breath; they were sort of expensive. More expensive than the things he usually takes. It’s one thing when it’s just a packet of sweets or a stack of sticky notes, they’re hardly worth anything. This feels closer to how he feels when he takes from his friends.

“What up?” Tsukishima is looking at him.

“Nothing.” It’s not convincing. His hand tightens around the crystal.

“What’ve you got?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine.”

Somehow, that feels worse than if Tsukishima had pushed him. He feels the need to show him, so he does, slowly pulling it out of his pocket.

“What is it?” Tsukishima steps a little closer. Yamaguchi holds his hand out, opens it, shows him.

“Candle holder.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima looks him in the eyes, his expression unreadable. They both look down at the rock again. “It’s cool.”

Yamaguchi extends his arm more. “You can have it.”

“It’s for me?”

No, it’s not a gift, because that would imply that he’d payed for it, and with the intention to give it to Tsukishima. He hadn’t done either of those things, but right now he wants him to have it.

“It’s not a gift.” He says, quiet. “You can just have it.” He tries not to meet Tsukishima’s eyes, but it’s hard when he can feel them burning into him. He hesitantly looks up. 

Tsukishima is giving him a look, like he’s trying to coax Yamaguchi into explaining.  _ Don’t make me, please Tsukki _ is what he tries to channel into his look as he chews the inside of his cheek. They look at each other for a few more seconds, before Tsukishima places his hand on his hip.

“You took it.”

“No, I didn’t.” He answers too fast for it to be believable, not that Tsukishima would’ve believed him either way.

“You did. I saw you.”

Yamaguchi searches his face for an emotion, but finds nothing. He bites his cheek harder. They’re silent for a few seconds before Tsukishima speaks again.

“What were you  _ thinking? _ ”

“I wasn’t.”

“Anyone could’ve seen you. You could’ve gotten in trouble, Yamaguchi.” His tone is firm, but not angry.

“Sorry, Tsukki.” 

Tsukishima tuts. “What would you have done if they caught you?”

“No one has caught me before.” 

Tsukishima takes a moment to think about his words, licking over his lips a couple times.

“Someone will, eventually, and then what?”

“They won’t.” Yamaguchi’s own voice is firm now. He’s mad at himself for letting it get to this. He feels stupid under Tsukishima’s gaze.

“ _I_ did.”

They just stand looking at each other for a while. Yamaguchi feels like if he looks away first, he’ll start crying. He sniffs.

After a minute, Tsukishima reaches out and takes the amethyst, studying it.

“It’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

“What else have you got?”

Yamaguchi breathes in an unsteady breath. He kicks the bottom drawer of his desk. Tsukishima puts the crystal next to where Yamaguchi placed the bunny and kneels down. Yamaguchi holds that breath as Tsuksihima opens the drawer.

They both stare at it for a moment, before Tsukishima plucks out a packet of paracetamol.

“What's all this?” He’s not mad, and Yamaguchi lets himself breathe again.

“Just crap, mostly.” He shrugs even though Tsukishima can’t see him.

“Mostly.” Tsukishima repeats, placing the tablets back and rummaging through 

“Mhm.”

He watches Tsukishima pick things out and look at them. He can’t see his face from here, and he wishes he could see his expression.

Tsukishima’s hand hovers over the broken trinket box, and Yamaguchi winces a little when he sees it. Tsukishima instead grabs a scrunchie and turns to look up at him.

“Why?” He’s looking expectant, curious.

“Why the scrunchie?”

“Why any of it?” Tsukishima plays with it between his fingers, stretching the elastic over all of them on one hand and pulling as far as it’ll go.

Yamaguchi shrugs again now that Tsukishima can see him.

“I don’t know.”

Tsukishima looks like he’s about to scold him so he talks again quickly.

“I really don’t! I don’t  _ want  _ to do it. I just can’t stop.”

Tsukishima tilts his head a little to the side. “Like an addiction?” Yamaguchi shakes his head.

“No. Well I don’t think so.” he picks at a hangnail. “A lot of the time I do it without even thinking.”

Tsukishima nods, like he’s trying to understand.

“I see.” He turns back to the drawer, dropping the scrunchie back in. He rifles through it a little more. The sound hurts Yamaguchi’s ears. “Makes sense. I don’t know why you’d want any of this crap.”

Yamaguchi chuckles lightly. “I told you it was crap.”

“You gotta stop this, y’know.” His tone is gentle. Yamaguchi wishes he could.

“I know. It’s just hard.” The hangnail pulls too far down his finger and he hisses, sucking it into his mouth for a moment. He pulls it out and frowns at it. “It used to just happen sometimes, but now I keep getting a weird urge to do it. Like, it feels like if I ignore it then I'll…I don’t know what’ll happen. I don’t ignore it.”

It sounds over dramatic, he knows. He’s stealing, not dying. But it’s like he’s got an itch and every second he doesn’t scratch it, it drives him more insane.

“Have you tried?”

That stings. His stomach tightens and his eyes flick to Tsukishima. He’s turned around again to look at Yamaguchi, a blank expression. He must see the hurt in Yamaguchi’s eyes, because he sighs.

“Tsukki…”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Yamaguchi breathes out slowly.

“I know.”

They look at each other for a moment, then Tsukishima turns around to pick something up. He holds it in front of him. Yamaguchi’s stomach doesn’t settle.

“This isn’t yours.”

Yamaguchi scoffs. “ _ None  _ of it is mine, Tsukki.”

“This is Kageyama’s.”

“I can see that.”

Tsukishima turns the nail file over in his hand a couple times, then scratches at his pointer fingernail with it for a moment. Watching Tsukishima take care of his pretty hands is nice, it puts him slightly at ease.

“How’d you get it?”

Yamaguchi thinks back for a moment. “He left it out of his bag. That’s usually how it goes.”

“Have you stolen from any of the upperclassmen?”

Yamaguchi gets defensive. “No! I wouldn’t do that! I-” He stops and remembers, his shoulders slacking. 

“Nishinoya-senpai.” he mutters. “And Azumane-senpai.”

Tsukishima smiles.

“He’d kick your teeth in if he found out.” He says. “Nishinoya, I mean.”

Yamaguchi gives a small smile back. He’d bet that Nishinoya shoplifts more expensive things from bigger stores than he ever has, but it’s beside the point. He’s glad Tsukishima isn’t cussing him out and calling him a shitty person.

“Please don’t tell him.”

“I wouldn’t.” He pats the floor next to him, motioning Yamaguchi to sit down next to him. He does, slowly.

He points into the drawer at the tub of hair gel, then moves some stuff around and picks out a big white hair band. Tsukishima nods.

“I have your tape, too.” he points to it.

Tsukishima follows his gaze. “I don’t leave my stuff out of my bag.”

“You never do.”

Curious, Tsukishima bends forward a little to get a better look in the drawer. He points out the purple moon pin. 

“That’s my pin.”

“Yeah.”

He points again. “My headphone splitter.”

“Yep.”

“Why’d you take that? We need that when we listen to music together.”

Yamaguchi doesn’t respond, just stares down at the little robot shaped splitter in the drawer. It’s cute, he always thought that. He’d planned on getting Tsukishima a new one but never got round to it. He doesn’t think about why he didn’t just give him that one back.

“Do you have my whole life in here?” Tsukishima shakes his head as he pulls out his bracelet. He rarely wore it anyway.

“You never wore it.”

“Not the point.” Tsukishima drops it back in and shuts the drawer, turning to face him.

Feeling a little brave Yamaguchi speaks. 

“I’ve got a bunch of your clothes.”

Tsukishima shakes his head again, smiling. “I knew that one already.”

He reaches out and takes Yamaguchi’s hand, bringing it close to his face. He inspects the new little wound on Yamaguchi’s finger. 

“I think it’s getting worse.” Yamaguchi bites his cheek again. “The stealing. I don’t think I can stop it yet.”

Tsukishima brings their hands down, holding Yamaguchi’s in his lap. He shrugs. “I don’t care if you take my shit.”

Yamaguchi sucks in a breath through his teeth. He hopes it's not the case, but he’s worried that Tsukishima’s words might’ve just worsened it. Taking from Tsukishima always feels the best. While usually giving in to the pull will just scratch the itch, taking Tsukishima’s stuff leaves him feeling giddy. Depending on what it is, he might not drop it immediately into the drawer as soon as he gets home and instead sit with it for a while until his heart calms down. He wonders if that’s perverted or not.

“Dangerous, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi warns. He feels a little breathless already. Maybe he is perverted. 

Tsukishima laughs. “You don’t live far. I can just come get it back.”

“Can I kiss you?” Yamaguchi isn’t sure why he said it. Maybe because Tsukishima doesn’t hate him like he thought he might. Maybe because he feels like a little bit of his weight has been lifted after talking about it. Maybe because Tsukishima is tracing patterns on the back of his hand.

Tsukishima stares, then cracks into a grin.

“What, you’re not gonna steal that, too?”

Yamaguchi gapes, silent for a moment. He quickly regains himself, making a retching noise.

“Ugh,  _ Tsukki! _ I hate you so  _ much _ that was  _ awful!” _ he leans forward, smacking Tsukishima on the head with an open palm over and over. “ _ Literally  _ the worst thing you’ve ever said. Shut the fuck up.”

They’re both laughing, Tsukishima bringing his arm up to protect his head. Yamaguchi hits him some more, shoving his shoulder and squeezing his hand where they’re still held then settling back down.

“Forget it. I don’t want to anymore. You’re the worst.”

Tsukishima squeezes his hand back. He snickers.

“Whatever.” He lifts Yamaguchi’s hand up and kisses the back of his fingers. He pulls back and rests Yamaguchi’s fingers against his cheek. 

“If there’s anything I can do, though,” Tsukishima starts. He takes a moment and continues. “If I can help at all. I don’t know. Just know I’m not gonna rat you out or anything.”

Yamaguchi’s heart swells, and he throws himself at Tsukishima, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his head in his shoulder.

“Tsukkiii-!” 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I care about you, so what?”

His heart jumps again, and he tightens his hold.

“Ugh,  _ Tsukki!”  _ His cheeks hurt from how wide he’s smiling.

  
  


Yamaguchi notices the next morning, after Tsukishima has left, That the amethyst candle holder is gone. He peeks in the drawer. The rest of Tsukishima’s things are still there. He smiles.

  
  
  


☾

  
  
  
  


Tsukishima is putting more effort into practice today. Less snarky quips than usual, more communication with the team as they have a practice match against each other. Nothing too obvious, but Yamaguchi notices it all the same.

They’re on seperate teams, the usual starting lineup on one side, with the rest of the team (and Nishinoya) on the other. Yamaguchi wishes he could play on the same side as the starters, but immediately feels bad for thinking that. The rest of the team are good, too. They’re all improving steadily, and he’s proud of them.

“Ennoshita, nice serve!” Sugawara calls from the right. Yamaguchi is on the front left, with Tsukishima right in front of him on the other side of the net. He sticks his tongue out at him, and the blond snorts.

Ennoshita’s serve is easily picked up by Daichi, sent to Kageyama, and Yamaguchi watches as they start that stupid sync thing that they do. It’s good, really, when it’s in a real match, but it always throws Yamaguchi off guard. Kageyama sends the ball all the way across, right to Tsukishima.

He doesn’t have time to react as Tsukishima taps the ball over.  _ Stupid feints _ , he thinks, as he trips over himself to try and reach it before it hits the ground. He fails, falling as the ball rolls on the ground. He puts his arms out to catch himself just in time, sharp pain shooting through his wrist and he hisses.

“Yamaguchi, are you alright?” Sugawara asks, moving to come over. He lifts his hand, shaking it dismissively.

“I’m alright! Sorry I couldn’t get it.”

“Don’t mind! You nearly had it!” Nishinoya calls from behind him, and he peers over his shoulder to see him give him a thumbs up. 

Yamaguchi nods, then turns to look up at Tsukishima on the other side. He’s looking down at him, smirking, and it sends a hot shiver through him. The ache in is his wrist starts to feel good, and he squints his eyes up at Tsukishima.

“Bastard.”

Tsukishima laughs. He sticks his tongue out at him, and they rotate their positions.

-

“I heard that Ennoshita-senpai is gonna be captain next year!” Hinata’s version of a whisper is about the same volume as a normal persons talking voice. He pulls his shirt over his head and his hair gets impossibly fluffier. Kageyama nods.

“Yeah, you told me.”

“Hey, no talking about that! If Daichi-san knows that I said anything about it, he’ll be pissed.” Tanaka calls from where he’s crouched at the back of the clubroom, rummaging through a box.

“Ennoshita-senpai will make a good captain.” Yamaguchi whispers, voice actually quiet instead of like Hinata’s whisper-shouts.

“Yeah. I’d rather have to listen to him than Tanaka-senpai.” Tsukishima replies, stupid pretty fingers working over his shirt buttons.

“ _ Tsukki, _ he might hear you!” Yamaguchi whips his head to check if Tanaka heard, but he’s still looking for whatever it is he’s looking for. He notices Tanaka’s beanie on the bench, and doesn’t attempt to resist the pull as he reaches back and grabs it.

He’s about to shove it in his bag, when Tsukishima wraps his arm firmly around his shoulders. Yamaguchi looks up at him, confused.

“Tsukki?”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond. He grabs Tanaka’s hat out of Yamaguchi’s grasp with his other hand and holds it up.

“Tanaka-senpai, you dropped this.” He calls, tossing it to him when Tanaka turns around. Tanaka catches it and shoots him some finger guns.

Yamaguchi is about to apologise, but Tsukishima leans down and kisses him firmly on his temple. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He mutters, letting go of Yamaguchi’s shoulders to finish getting ready.

Yamaguchi runs his hands through his hair, smiling down at his bag. In the corner of his eye, he can see Tsukishima smiling, too.

“Ugh, barf, get a room!” Nishinoya’s loud voice startles him, and he turns to watch as the libero jumps to reach high enough to snack Tsukishima on the head.

“This is a room.” Is all Tsukishima says.

-

They’re split up differently as they walk home, this time. Yamaguchi and Kageyama are walking together a good few steps ahead of Tsukishima and Hinata. For once, Hinata’s voice isn’t carrying all the way down the street.

“Huh. So he does know volume control.” Yamaguchi observes aloud. Kageyama snickers next to him. Yamaguchi doesn’t know if he’s ever heard Kageyama make that noise before.

“Rarely.” Kageyama peers over his shoulder for a second before looking back ahead. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been a little off for a while.”

Yamaguchi shrugs. “I’ll be alright.” He tries to think of an excuse. “It’s too cold in the gym.”

Kageyama doesn’t look like he believes that’s the reason, but he doesn't push, just nods.

“It is. I wish Daichi-san would let us wear tracksuit bottoms.”

“You could get those really long knee pads. They’d keep you warm, I bet.”

Kageyama looks like he’s actually considering it, which makes Yamaguchi smile. Those things look crazy, and probably feel weird too. The extra fabric on his legs does sound inviting though. Kageyama taps him as they pass by the store.

“I’m gonna get a snack. You getting anything?”

Yamaguchi peers into the window, then over his shoulder at Tsukishima and Hinata down the street. He nods. 

“Yeah, I’ll have a look.”

As they go in, Kageyama wanders to the back immediately, and Yamaguchi dawdles around the drinks section. He looks at all the different juices and smoothies. Why do they have so many different kinds? How many combinations of fruits can there be?

His eyes find the cans of coffee. The one that Tsukishima always gets is there. He expects to feel the pull, but it's only tiny. Small enough to ignore. 

He looks over his shoulder. There’s no one at the counter right now. He reaches out and takes one, slipping it into his coat pocket. He walks around the aisle until he finds Kageyama.

“What’re you getting?”

Kageyama stands from where he was crouched. He holds up his packet.

“Melon pan.”

“Nice.”

“You not hungry?”

“Nah, Nothing caught my eye.”

Kageyama pays, and they make their way out the door. Tsukishima is leaning against the lamp post across the street, watching Hinata who is trying to beckon over a cat.

Kageyama walks over to him, and the cat scampers off. Hinata turns to glare at him.

“Nice one, Bakageyama. You scared her!”

Kageyama actually looks a little guilty, and they start walking in the direction of their places. Hinata turns around and waves at them.

“See ya tomorrow!” 

Yamaguchi waves back. Tsukishima nods, then looks over at Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi steps across the street, and when he’s in front of him, pulls the can out of his pocket. Tsukishima pushes himself upright and they start walking. Yamaguchi holds it out to him.

“Here.”

Tsukishima looks down at it. “You bought me a coffee?”

Yamaguchi pulls a face, tilting his head to the side as if to say  _ Eh, something like that. _

“You took it?”

Yamaguchi smiles sheepishly, pushing the can into Tsukishima’s hand. When Tsukishima looks at him, there's a hint of pity in his eyes. Yamaguchi holds onto Tsukishima’s sleeve.

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to.”

Tsukishima stares at him, before tutting and cracking open the can.

“Don’t do that again. You're supposed to be trying to stop.” he’s smiling as he takes a sip. Yamaguchi smiles, too.

“No promises.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! if u enjoyed it pls lmk ;u;<3 i had other scenes i wanted to shove into this, but thought it was dragging too much lmao


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